Editor-in-Chief Emeritus (2020-2021) and Former Managing Editor (2019-2020)
Emergency Medicine Resident, UC Davis Medical Center
Sam is an emergency medicine resident at UC Davis Medical Center. He attended the Mayo Clinic School of Medicine, graduating in 2021. In 2017, he graduated from the United States Air Force Academy with a Bachelor of Science in biochemistry. He enjoys reading, writing, yoga, skiing and rock climbing in his free time.
Note: The opinions expressed by Sam on in-Training are his own. They do not reflect the opinion of the U.S. Air Force, the Department of Defense, or the U.S. government.
Simply put, the humanities seek to capture the mosaic of human existence across the chasms of jubilation and despair, life and death, love and fear. The humanities are both disciplines of academic study and modes of expression.
In my high school years, I had an English teacher, Mr. Moon, who once remarked that his dream would be to “write a paper” about a certain book we were reading, and publish it somewhere. “Write a paper”? Was he kidding? In his free time, he was going to write?
Tears for the dead, tears for the living / who persist in this world that is so unforgiving
Today, I am determined to notice love. The sun comes up bright and full each morning to keep us warm.
One of the most impactful influences on my decision to become a doctor was meeting a patient with multiple sclerosis (MS). I was 19 years old and a hospital volunteer in Michigan. As I was replacing gloves, gowns and towels in my department, I entered the room of an elderly Eastern-European woman.
There I was, face to face with a middle-aged Korean man, blood still dripping from a gash in his forehead. Disoriented, erratic, agitated … and rightfully so.
In the pediatric ICU, a call was received from another hospital to give sign out for a patient already en route. The child being transferred had experienced a traumatic brain injury. The child was intubated after receiving every sort of therapeutic management imaginable in a desperate attempt to salvage any remaining brain function, but the prognosis was dire.
Lots of people get bigger bellies as they age. My aunt used to say it was because of all the love in your life building up. This man noticed his belly was growing a little more than expected.
Freud supposedly understood himself as a surgeon of the mind, dissecting his patients’ mental anatomy through the process of psychoanalysis. I found this comparison appealing, so when I started the psychiatry clerkship in my third year of medical school, I approached the interview in psychiatry as analogous to a surgical procedure — efficient, scripted, precise.
Mr. T did not smile at me. No, I didn’t think it was because he was mean or anything; in fact, he was polite and had quite a calming voice. But honestly, it was hard to read someone’s facial expression behind a mask — at least during the first few months of the COVID-19 outbreak.
“I’m sorry that you have to see me this way,” said Ms. A as we exited the examining room. Twenty minutes earlier, Ms. A had been laughing and cracking jokes while my attending physician and I obtained her medical history and life updates.
Our illness narrative, the COVID narrative, is about so much more than regaining health (though I acknowledge that for those afflicted by the disease, overcoming the debilitating circumstances may be more than can even be hoped for). Returning to Frank’s ideas, our narrative is about rediscovering the voice that was stolen by forces beyond our control.
Contributing Writer
University of Texas Southwestern Medical School
Parker is a first-year medical student at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical School in Dallas, Texas class of 2025. In 2021, he graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a Bachelor of Science in microbiology. He enjoys playing music, reading, and hiking in his free time. After graduating from medical school, Parker would like to pursue a career in emergency medicine.
